I have so many feelings about these two *sigh*. I apologize for any OOCness. Enjoy and reviews and comments are much appreciated! ^^
All of Me
Wake up. Breakfast. Coffee. Work. Dinner. Sleep. Wake up. Breakfast. Coffee. Work. Dinner. Sleep. The actions kept repeating, this never-ending cycle of nothingness continuing. At first he had thought it would get better. He had some hope that he would come back. He used to stay up and wait for him, staring at the door as if it would open any moment and he would walk in like nothing had happened. Obviously, that had never been the case and after so many nights in stupidly expecting him to show up, he had given up.
It all gets better with time, they said. Well they could all go fuck themselves. Because it was a simple and blatant lie. Because sometimes lies hurt less than the truth. It didn't get better. You just got used to it, to this emptiness eating on you from inside. But how did you get used to it? It wasn't something you could wake up to and tell yourself, 'Okay, today I won't feel any pain'.
He had tried everything. Working till he collapsed on the sofa at 4 am, empty cans of Red Bull and Monster on the coffee table, too exhausted and careless to move to the bedroom. It had become a routine.
Sketching whatever came to mind, looking for some kind of inspiration, but never finding it, even after tugging at the corners of countless sheets of paper and possibly causing the cutting down of a small forest.
Writing. Going to the park ,to the gardens, and the Starbucks across his apartment, and the library, and the campus, and everywhere else in the whole goddamn city, only to find no consolation there or anywhere.
Reading. Newspapers, books of all sorts- fiction, poems, science books, history books, Shakespeare. He either ended up dropping them entirely or finishing them but never feeling that sense of satisfaction or enlightenment he did before.
After all of these had been deemed unsuccessful, and the internet had no more decent ideas to offer him as a remedy to his depression, he gave up and just stuck to his daily routine. Erik Lehnsherr had tried everything. But forgetting someone like Charles Xavier was proving to be quite the challenge.
It was a Friday. Erik opened the door to his miniature flat, consequently kicking some old boxes he had never bothered to remove from the back. He cursed under his breath for the hundredth time, having kicked the same boxes in the exact same manner for the hundredth time in the past few months. He walked in, leaving his groceries on the table plot in the "kitchen". He opened the refrigerator and got out a beer or whatever was left of one. He fell down on his too-old couch, sighing and turning on the TV. The anchorman was talking about some recent storms in the state, but he barely paid attention. Instead, the man retrieved his laptop from under some pillows and turned it on.
The same habit remained and Erik first checked his email, scanning the names of all the spam mails. He was only looking for one name though. The same predicament remained every day too. No new letters from him.
Erik threw his head back in frustration. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Charles was probably flirting with some pretty girl at the moment, buying her drinks and laughing away, and all Erik could do was sit here all night and go over all their memories together. It's not like he had no one to go out with either. Some guys from work had asked him to get drinks last week, but Erik flat-out refused. It's not like there hadn't been opportunities to get Charles out of his head. He simply didn't want to.
He closed his tired eyes. Our views of the world are just too different, Erik. We need to go our separate paths. I'm sorry, my friend. I hope you find happiness…Goodbye. It had all went in a flash. Charles had packed and left on a whim. But even now, Erik wondered, if it hadn't been coming all along. All his negativity, his hatred towards everything, had driven Charles away. Even the most generous man in the world couldn't stand it forever. And yet, through all this hatred of the world, Erik had found him. The only thing he truly loved- this beautiful man with his mesmerizing mind. Charles had given him hope, had taught him to love and to care, and had shown him real happiness.
He pushed himself upward. Erik closed his laptop and deciding he didn't feel like ordering dinner, went straight to the bedroom. Without bothering to change his clothes, the man lied on his bed and waited for sleep to come and take him away from here for at least awhile. His last thought was of the smell of mint tea on Charles' old sweater.